Perfect Playlist: 21
by Shana Hager
Summary: Inspired by the work of LegitElizabethWWEFan. These ficlets about my favorite Smasher are based on songs from Adele's album, 21. Some may borrow from my previous stories. Rated M, because you never know.
1. Rolling in the Deep

**Rolling in the Deep**

He was slumped on the sofa, staring slack-jawed at the TV. "Are you serious?" he asked.

Just seconds ago, a simple announcement blew his world apart. His year was over. Finished. Kaput. Without so much as a by-your-leave, they ripped the Year of Luigi from him. He was back to being the overshadowed little brother.

"No—no, this can't be happening," he muttered, dumbly, switching off the TV. He couldn't look at it anymore. It grabbed at him, trying to drag him down into a sinkhole. But he wouldn't let it. He'd clear it from his mind, and maybe he'd wake up to find that all of this was a nightmare.

A chill crept into the air around him, and at that point, he knew that this was no nightmare. This was real.

"My year—it's over—all over," he gasped. "How could they do this to me?"

* * *

At least he was still returning for the new Smash tournament this year. At least he was a starter, rather than a secret character. At least the heads of said tournament gave him the coveted Thumbs-Up. At least…

At least he still had his brother and his friends.

He found Mario at the gym, brushing up on his moves. Mario turned at the sound of footsteps and smiled. "Hi, Bro!" he piped up.

"Hi, Mario. You want to spar?"

Mario nodded. He, too, had discovered the news. "Sure."

Luigi was fired up, and so was Mario. Long after sunset, they were still going hard at each other. They were interrupted by a call from Master Hand, extending his sympathy for this turn of events. Luigi assured him that he was okay, that he would survive, before the reality started to get to him, and he hung up. Then, the sparring continued as if they'd never been interrupted.

Close to midnight, the brothers finally called it quits. By then, Luigi was too exhausted and sore to even think. He flopped into bed and slept without dreaming.

* * *

The weight of the shell was in Luigi's palm, sending pulses of wickedness through his nerves. A mischievous look crossed his features as he gained on the racer up ahead. Gripping the steering wheel of his cart with one hand, he'd never felt so alive or powerful. In one swift motion, he heaved the shell at the other racer, watching as it found its target. The other racer screamed piteously as he spun out of control. As Luigi thundered past, he turned to look at the victim, the mischief gone from his face, replaced by something darker.

His radio was tuned to a hip-hop station. "Ridin' Dirty" by Krazie Bone was his siren song. As he maneuvered his kart down the tricky raceway, he happily released the tension which had followed him since that fateful March day. During the final heat, he noticed that all of the racers were pretty terrified of him now, and he only justified their terror each time he threw bananas and Bob-ombs in their path or hit them with shells, all the while searing them with malevolent eyes. Over the chaotic sounds of screeching tires, crashing carts and crumpling metal, over cries and shrieks of agony and affright, the rap song entered him, filled him, and _became_ him. He was an artist, creating black and red-orange nightmares of warped remains of karts and battered and sometimes broken bodies, of pleas for mercy and wailing sirens. No one dared to challenge him now. And he crossed the finish line first without any difficulty.

Once his prize was won, Luigi was contrite towards his fellow racers, soothing their fears and apologizing for scaring them like that. But he knew that Nintendo was watching, and that their rash decision to end his year was hitting them hard. They were not the ones to decide when it ended—he was! And the Year of Luigi was just about to heat up…

Later still, as he demonstrated his fighting prowess at a combo exhibition, the same thought ran through Luigi's mind. He'd show them. He'd show them all. They weren't going to push him around anymore. They thought they put the cap on a special year, but they were dead wrong. They started an era—the Era of Luigi.

And _that_ would never end.


	2. Rumor Has It

**Rumor Has It**

 **Sorry for the long wait!**

"Hey, L! Have you heard the rumor?"

"L, listen to what they're saying!"

"L, do you believe this is possible?"

"L, you've gotta hear this!"

"L, are you all ears?"

"L, let me tell you the latest word on the street!"

"L, is this actually true?"

"Haven't you heard the rumor, L?"

"Did you hear the predictions about her, L?"

"There's a big rumor going around, L."

"Did you hear the rumors yet, L?"

"L! There's a rumor about your girlfriend!"

"It's all over the Smash discussion boards, L!"

"People are really hoping it's gonna happen, L!"

"Rumor has it that she has a chance, L!"

"Rumor has it that she's gonna be a Smasher, L!"

"Rumor has it that she'll finally get some attention, too, L!"

"Rumor has it that you'll get some more time together, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy is a candidate on the Smash Ballot, L!"

"Rumor has it that people are voting Daisy into Smash, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy's winning the Smash Ballot, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy is a viable Smasher, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy's not gonna be just a Peach clone, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy has support from the inside, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy's proposed moveset is creative, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy's a finalist on the Smash Ballot, L!"

"Rumor has it that Daisy's gonna win the Smash Ballot, L!"

"Rumor has it…"

"Rumor has it…"

"Rumor has it…"

"Rumor has it…"

A smile quirked Luigi's lips each time someone sent a rumor his way. He loved what they were saying about his Daisy. He wanted to believe it. He wanted her to believe it. He wanted it all to be true.

"Rumor has it that they're finally paying attention," he mused to himself as he headed off to the Smash viewing theater to watch the final Nintendo Direct presentation of 2015.

 **Please R &R.**


	3. Turning Tables

**Turning Tables**

 **TW: Angst ahead!**

He could not stop sobbing, the angry sounds continuing to force their way from his throat and his mouth. His face was red and blotchy, covered in tear tracks. He shrieked in pure rage as he heaved another object at his bedroom wall. The sound of impact was so good to hear. Right now, he wanted—needed—to throw things around, to trash this room. Maybe later, he could trash a certain giant glove, as well.

At first, Luigi was in denial when he heard Master Hand's rant. After everything he'd done to maintain the stability of this tournament, he should've considered it below his dignity to castigate one of his Smashers. But he did. Right where Luigi could hear him. And he sounded like he meant what he'd said.

It started out as a squabble, a difference of opinion. Luigi believed that Stuart Bennigan deserved to be beaten black, blue and bloodied for insulting him, challenging his qualifications for Smasher of the Month, playing the victim, getting him suspended and getting his friends in trouble. He'd followed the Professor's powerful advice and refused to let anyone, not even the Hand of Creation, push him around. He'd defended his honor, his friends, and everything else he believed in. But to Master Hand, Luigi had picked a fight with a Smash newcomer. He'd intimidated him, made him feel afraid and insecure, and ultimately sent him into his mother's arms. He should've used his words with Stuart, rather than be so quick to settle it in Smash. Master had explicitly ordered Luigi to stay away from Stuart, and Luigi had disobeyed. Disobedience had to be punished. Which was why Luigi was currently on probation.

But Luigi had tried talking to Stuart. He'd tried using his words. He'd explained to him about how the Year of Luigi had commemorated his 30 years in the video game world. He'd talked about how seeing his brother safe had motivated him to take on ghosts. He'd tried to get the bully to apologize—a public apology. But Stuart scoffed, sneered and laughed at him, so Luigi offered to let Stuart prove his arguments against his winning Smasher of the Month in a Smash battle. Stuart shirked away at once, thinking of all sorts of ways to weasel out of it, which culminated in him putting on his victim act and later torturing the man in green by getting his pals suspended right along with him!

In the aftermath, Master Hand lessened Luigi's punishment due to mitigating circumstances, but Luigi beseeched him to end the punishment completely. Tempers flared, and their conversations grew more hostile. Finally, during one explosive argument, Luigi snapped, grabbing an expensive vase and hurling it at Master Hand before doing the same thing to anything else within his reach, screaming at him in Italian. Calmly, the glove just floated away, while Luigi stormed into the Training Area. Countless Sandbags faced his blazing fury as he set his playlist to the edgiest songs he could find.

It was then that he heard the words.

 _"I wish I'd listened to everyone else and just left him out! He's proven that he's not fit to be in this type of thing! He should've just stayed home, where he belongs! Nobody would've cared, anyway—he's always second fiddle to Mario, and that's all he'll ever be, anniversary or not! He gets a stupid vacuum on his back, a few games under his belt, some fanfare and a move to the starting roster, and he thinks he owns the place! Disobeying me, instigating others, destroying property, throwing tantrums and back-sassing me—I've just had enough, okay?!"_

 _"Wh-what are you trying to say, Bro?"_

 _"He never should've been in this tournament to begin with! If I'd known that he'd become like this back in 1999, then I honestly would've denied his application, regardless of Mario's feelings! A line has been crossed today, Crazy—the second he grabbed that vase and flung it, it was over for him! He's out! Done! Finished in Super Smash Brothers! I'm dumping him back to his universe first thing tomorrow morning!"_

More sobs tore from him as he kicked things over and sent stuff flying off of tables. Nice to know how Master Hand really thought of him. He only invited him because of Mario, eh? He didn't give two [ _bleeps_ ] about him, eh? Well, that was just fine! There were some people who terrorized him here, anyway! He'd be better off without them! He'd find some other tournament to fight in!

"You heartless demi-god!" Luigi choked out, kicking over one last chair and collapsing onto the floor. "You're nothing but a sadist! You love watching us beat each other up! You pretend to care about our well-being and pamper us, just so we won't leave! You have no idea what I've gone through in the past 16 years! You think you're a celebrity but you're a tyrant, a no-good, self-righteous tyrant! Well, fine! You want me to go? Then I'm going. You don't have to do it for me!"

He got up from the floor and tidied his room, beginning to calm down. A cold smile wormed its way onto his tear-soaked face. He wasn't going to leave just yet. There were just a few things he needed to attend to before saying sayonara to Smash. Heck, he wasn't going to start packing until later! So, Master Hand wanted to play things his way? Fine. He'd play his little game. But he was going to make up his own rules.

Luigi washed his face and smoothed his hair before changing into a new pair of clothes. He wanted to look nice and handsome before his final bow, right? Lastly, he applied cologne, strapped on a sports watch and headed out the door.

"I get the last laugh, Master Hand," he snapped as he marched toward the sign-up booth for 3-Minute Smash.

"This isn't the featherweight division, small fry," chuckled the diminutive Mii manning the desk. "Next!"

"I'm serious about this. Sign me up."

The Mii must've deduced the storm signals, because he caved in seconds later. "Do you understand that we aren't responsible for any injury you may and probably will sustain while participating in this event?"

"I do."

"Are you participating of your own volition?"

"I am."

"Okay, then. Down the hall, take a left, and then go up the stairs to the portal. May God be with you."

Luigi squared his shoulders and proceeded as instructed.

"I'll show you, you greedy, sadistic glove. I'll show you…"

 **Yikes, that was intense. Please leave a review.**


	4. Don't You Remember?

**Don't You Remember?**

Master Hand didn't know when he'd see Luigi again.

He thought they were in a good place. A year after the squabble which nearly tore them asunder, they were back on speaking terms, Luigi learning how to forgive and to trust again.

And then, poof.

Daisy didn't make it in, and Master Hand knew about it. Luigi was hurt by the secrecy and confronted him, Crazy Hand and Master Core in an intense battle. In its aftermath, Luigi had calmed down and was poised to forgive the trio—only to discover that cyberbullies had targeted both him and Daisy. These cyberbullies eventually led him to an actual bullying ring—people who conspired to make Luigi's life miserable and decided to harass Daisy to accomplish that end.

Needless to say, Luigi took quite the extreme approach to the situation. While it was true that they deserved punishment for their crimes, Master would've just reprimanded and disciplined them. Harsher punishments would've made him a dictator, and he didn't want that. But Luigi argued that these people would just keep doing it unless drastic action was taken. In other words, Master Hand was too lenient.

The Hand of Creation tried to link this bullying to tier lists of the past after discovering several alarming posts on Luigi's Miiverse profile. But while he was revisiting the past, tormentors were making trouble in the present. Luigi tried to do "the right thing" and let Master Hand handle it, but when he learned that MH was too fascinated with the past—he once again took matters into his own hands.

The man in green left without a goodbye. Not a single word was said between them. There was no hug or handshake to seal anything. Wow—had the state of things gone this bad?

Now, he was cavorting somewhere in California, endangering himself, and leaving the Smashers to worry. Was he thinking about them—or repressing them from his memory? Every night, Master Hand thought about where he went wrong handling the situation, and the more he did—the less he knew.

He just hoped Luigi would find what he was looking for. Maybe he'd come back to his senses, get some closure over Daisy's loss—and recover the missing piece which would lead him back to Smash.

"Luigi," sighed Master Hand. "When will I see you again?"

 **Please review.**


	5. Set Fire to the Rain

**Set Fire to the Rain**

"I should've just come out and said it," said Mario. "Why didn't I?"

"M, stop beating yourself up over it," said Link. "You did what any sibling would've done—try to shield him from a harsh blow."

"But I didn't! I said that he was ranked low, but not that he was in last place! It didn't make it less painful."

"At least you didn't outright lie to him," consoled Link. "You only left out certain details. Look, I'm not judging you. I know why you couldn't shatter his hopes like that. On the first day, he was so eager and confident and full of life…"

"…and now this," finished Mario, taking another sip of his drink. "These stupid gamers dropped him to the bottom like worthless trash, and it hurt his morale! It—it made him remember that he was in my shadow. Just when he claws his way out—they throw him back in."

"How is he?" asked Link.

"He's doing okay." Mario dropped his eyes. "He knows that I lied, though."

"And?"

"He told me that he wasn't angry—but I know better," said Mario. "I just bet he's anticipating our next rendezvous on the battlefield."

"You two are the best brothers I've ever known," Link said encouragingly. "You'll be fine."

"I just want him to know that I did it to protect him," Mario said softly. "I didn't want to torture him by keeping his ranking a secret."

"I think he knows why you did it," said Link. "He probably just has a hard time grasping _that_ you did it."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Look on the bright side, though," smiles Link. "You two are brothers, for better or worse. He loves you to death. I see it. And given a little time, he'll work past this. I guarantee it."

"Wow, maybe _you_ should have the Triforce of Wisdom," joked Mario.

Link blushed. "I'm known more for my courage," he explained, "but thank you."

 **LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL**

 _Flashback_

"Bro, I need to tell you something."

"Sure, Mario. What is it?"

"I—um—I sneaked a peek at the tier list, you know, to view my rankings. But then I saw yours."

"And where did they put me?"

"There's not an easy way to put this, but—you were placed very low. I'm so sorry. I know you came here to make something of yourself."

"Why am I not surprised? After all, I'm just the second player, always in your shadow! I—could use a stiff drink right now."

"I'll join you."

"Th-thanks, Mario."

 _End flashback_

The room was empty, save for Luigi and the Polygon. There was no escape for the 3-D humanoid as Luigi's angry blows thudded into its stout frame. The plumber's cries bounced off the walls of the Training Room as he trumped his sparring partner's defenses over and over. Sweat flew off his face, yet he continued to concentrate his emotions on the Polygon, impeding its attempts to take an offensive stance. He had to show everyone that the suits at Nintendo had made a grave mistake.

It had been hours since he saw the list. Hours since he saw his poor ranking. And hours since his own brother lied to him about it. He said he was ranked low, but he didn't say he was last!

The unflinching truth had brought him to his knees, and Mario had rushed over. Yet he couldn't look at him. He knew what he had done. Luigi had drilled his stare into his elder brother until he was forced to look him in the eyes and confess.

"I—wanted to tell you," he'd muttered, like that was an excuse.

"I know," Luigi had responded curtly. At least he tried to prepare him; he couldn't rule that out. But he'd kept an important fact from him—the fact that he was now considered the worst fighter in the tournament! Oh—he was going to make sure Mario remembered this lie by omission. They had a matchup scheduled for later that afternoon, and Luigi was going to make good use of it, if you know what I mean.

Still, Luigi had accepted Mario's embrace, wanting his comforting arms despite his fib.

"I don't care what that thing says—you're as much of a hero as me!" declared Mario.

Luigi couldn't help but smile at that.

That was hours ago. Now, he was destroying a Polygon, imagining that it was one of two certain A-tiers thumbing his nose up at him, or a maker of that list—or that secret-keeping, fame-hogging big brother of his. Stars, why did _he_ get all the fame?

Luigi yelled something without words and offered the Polygon one last smashing blow. The Polygon was now sagged against a wall, recovering from the beatdown. It muttered something under its breath before limping out of the room, leaving the plumber to his own devices. His body was trembling, his breathing ragged. His spar with the Polygon hadn't exhausted his energy. There was so much anger toward different people. There were so many questions in his head. Why was he last? Why can't he emerge from the shadows? Why didn't Mario just say he was last? Why were certain Smashers too good for him now?

He needed a raw, powerful release.

"I knew I'd find you here."

Luigi saw Mario standing there, a warm smile on his face.

"Hey, Bro. How's it going?" asked Luigi.

"Good, I guess. And you?"

Luigi shrugs. "It's as good as it gets, thanks for asking."

Mario strides towards his brother. "Look," he says. "I know I should've told you that you were in last place. But I didn't want to be the one to take away your happiness."

"I know."

"I just wanted it to hurt less."

"Well, it didn't." Direct, matter-of-fact.

"Walking to your room, I was prepared to tell you. I was thinking of a way to gently break it to you. But then I saw you, dancing to your songs on the stereo, and I just—couldn't."

"Hm. Very kind of you."

"I should've, though."

"Yes, you should've."

"L—don't hate me."

Luigi strode closer to his big bro. "I don't."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive."

"Can you ever forgive me?"

Luigi blinks. "We'll see."

First, however—a spar to get the last of this out of his system.

 **Please R &R.**


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